


Silence of Tombs

by afterhoursfiction



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, and they're both bad at socialising, prompto pov, the first half is dungeon exploration, the second half is the Feels Struggle, where they don't meet in school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 20:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterhoursfiction/pseuds/afterhoursfiction
Summary: Prompto meets Noctis in the tomb of an old king, lost and battling with a deep-seated loneliness.





	Silence of Tombs

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Title changed from 'Decrepit quiet' to 'Silence of Tombs'
> 
> Also for Promptis Fanweek Day 7 - Alternate Universe.
> 
> I was exploring dungeons in the game and thought what if promptis didn't meet in school like normal kids and instead ran into each other in a dungeon like this?  
> So, this is an AU where they're both still about high school age. The tomb/dungeon is made-up, but is mostly pieces of costlemark. [Here's some art](http://lusethxii-art.tumblr.com/post/165423503854/sketches-for-a-promptis-au-where-they-meet-in-a) if you want to see how I imagined that they look, not that it's necessary to the story.
> 
> Disquiet and What lies within sets a great mood for this.

Tombs are almost always underground, long winding corridors and steps carrying into the earth. The closed spaces and general darkness is a deep uneasiness in his gut, but Prompto Argentum has learnt that it’s the kind of places a boy finds treasure.

It’s been an hour since Prompto has last seen daylight. His hands are wrapped around the flashlight firmly, a safety torch in the blanket of darkness. By now, Prompto must be several levels below the earth.

 

* * *

 

16-year-old Prompto had first discovered this lucrative little hobby earlier in the summer. He had been wandering around some old ruins in Lucis with a camera, hoping to get some interesting shots when he stumbled upon the entrance.

He had been skeptical, at first. Prompto had heard his fair share of stories of children who got lost and didn’t return by dark, and usually that meant - well. Still, it was midday with plenty of time before sundown, and Prompto prided himself as someone who could well look after themself. So he packed his camera away and slipped through the doorway.

Later that day, he returned with a few shards of greenstone, which he discovered could fetch a pretty decent price at the local market.

 

Now, months later, Prompto is back, armed with a flashlight, compass and even a little something in case he ran into danger, hoping to venture further. With money from selling his loot, Prompto might be able to afford that new camera with bigger aperture and better everything.

With that thought to seal his resolve, Prompto lets another flight of steps carry him deeper.

 

This far away from the outside world, it’s frighteningly quiet. There is a certain buzzing in his ears, and only strained silence as far as he can gather. Prompto sweeps his flashlight around, boots scruffing against old rock as he pushed forward tentatively. The ceilings here are higher, he observes, the structures seeming as if they might have been grand many centuries ago.

_ It’s the tomb of a king, afterall. _ He thinks.

Maybe he ought to leave. He might be stealing from a king, and surely the astrals would hate a boy for that, won’t they? Prompto won’t want to get on their bad side.

But leaving now would mean leaving empty-handed, to his empty home and his camera with a broken filter that left film after film with splashes of pinks and cyans.

Then, Prompto notices the faintest hint of light. Runes painted over with symbols are glowing red, lighting up like magic in a castle. Prompto glances down the rest of the hallway, and the tomb seems to beckon him in.

It shouldn’t be doing that. Prompto’s a thief, and the tomb should be keeping him out.

Prompto moves forward.

 

* * *

 

Some hours later, Prompto realises that he’s lost. He had picked up some scraps - a shattered timepiece, a bronze bangle and an old coin. None of them seemed particularly valuable, and he was beginning to feel both frustrated and upset at himself for venturing into the tomb.

Prompto glances down the hallway, trying to recall if he had passed it or not. He had tried to backtrack but it hadn’t worked out, and he couldn’t read his compass as well as he wished he could, so he was stuck.

At least he had the foresight to pack water with him, so Prompto grabs a quick drink to refresh himself, and then decides to check the room on the left.

 

He hadn’t expect to find anyone. Prompto had been here alone for hours, afterall. He had been convinced there couldn’t be a single living soul down here, save for himself. But the boy before him is without a doubt, flesh and blood.

Prompto’s mouth opens, but he doesn’t know what to say.

The boy turns around, and Prompto’s able to pick out that he has dark hair, is wearing a dress shirt of some sort, and looks to be about his own age.

“Who are you?” The boy asks.

“I’m P-Prompto,” Prompto answers. At this moment, Prompto has no idea who the boy is and why they are here, but it probably won’t be great for them to know what Prompto was doing. “Been going ‘round in circles here, do you know the way…?”

“Yea, I do.”

Prompto heaves a sigh of relief.

“Why are you here, anyway?” He asks.

_ Oh. _ Well, of course he’d ask that.

“I was looking at the ruins and...kinda wandered around and accidentally led myself here?” Prompto tries.

“It’s a tomb, y’know,” the boy says.

“Yea, I...figured,” Prompto responds with a weak laugh. “Though I couldn’t find it afterall.”

He glances back at the boy and notes the way his white shirt is scruffed with dirt, as with his cheeks and nose. The boy pauses, before turning to Prompto, blue eyes catching in the cast of his flashlight.

“Do you want me to show you the way?”

“Yea! That’ll be great, uh-” Prompto flouders. “You haven’t really told me your name, have you?”

“Noctis,” the boy supplies.

Prompto looks at Noctis, and suddenly he’s seeing a name passed on the radio and glimpsed on the Insomnian papers. Noctis - Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum.

“You’re the prince,” Prompto says. “Prince Noctis.”

“Yea.”

Prompto doesn’t know what to say after that. He had never imagined that he would meet the prince in the flesh, and in the tomb of an old king, nonetheless.

“...what? Stop gawking,” Noctis says after a while. “You wanted to see the tomb, right?”

“Uh, y-yea!”

_ Great job, Prompto,  _ He chides himself. _ First you’ve found zero treasure, then you’ve gotten lost and then offended the prince with your stupid staring. _

 

Noctis doesn’t say much as he leads Prompto down the hallway, and along several other turns. He seems completely in his element, moving through what seemed like a labyrinth with ease. Meanwhile, as Prompto trails after him, his mind juggles a million questions. What was the prince doing in a tomb, and why did he seem so familiar in a place he was way too young for?

The silence is starting to make Prompto restless, but the idea of stirring small talk is too intimidating. Prompto had never been good at speaking up first, anyway. He’d only awkwardly befriended the girl who sat behind him in class and the couple of boys who played soccer together. He had tried, really, but Prompto always felt held at arm’s length somehow.

Now he’s glimpsing at Noctis as they walk, trying to catch hints of...something. Something to give him a starting edge. The prince is around his age, isn’t he?

The silence stretches on, until Noctis brings them to a small room. It’s a dead end, but before Prompto can comment on it, Noctis is reaching out and touching his hand against a rune on the wall. The rune lights up with a blue glow and suddenly the floor is lurching into motion. 

_ Oh, oh god. _

Prompto shoots Noctis a panicked look.

“Wha-?”

“Relax, we’re just going down,” Noctis says. It does little to ebb his fear, but Prompto steels himself through it and eventually the floor came to a stop. There’s another set of runes before them now, that Noctis touches and opens into a doorway.

“How did you do that?” Prompto blurts out as soon as he gathers his bearings again. “...can  _ I _ do that?”

He glances at the glowing runes, hand itching to give it a go, but knowing better of it.

“It’s probably because it’s me,” Noctis says.

“Oh, right.” Prompto pulls his hand back quickly.

“You wanted to see the tomb, right?” Noctis calls out after him, already ahead.

“Y-yea!” Prompto replies, following after him hastily.

 

* * *

 

Noctis takes them down another winding hallway, and across a corridor with crumbling ruins.

“Wait, is that safe?” Prompto asks, pulling back hesitantly as Noctis edges across a small ledge to reach the other side of the room.

“It  _ is, _ come on, Prompto,” Noctis insists, holding out his hand to him.

Prompto frowns. He’s sure that he’s not  _ that _ much of a klutz, but slipping up would be disastrous. Still, Noctis is beckoning him forward and Prompto doesn’t have much of a choice to head back anyway. So Prompto sets his foot on the ledge, finding that it just barely fit, and shuffles across toward Noctis.

When he gets close enough, Prompto makes a grab for Noctis’ hand, and Noctis gives him a pull.

“See? You made it,” Noctis says as soon as Prompto’s safe on the other side of the room.

“With my help, but still.”

A smirk, something small and decidedly smug, is on Noctis’ face.

“Aw thanks - you’re my hero, Prince Noctis,” Prompto coos, rolling his eyes.

“Just call me Noct,” Noctis huffs.

 

Next, Noctis has them crawling through a hole under a rubble of ruins. This time, Prompto levels him with a wary look.

“You  _ sure _ that is safe?”

“Yea? I’ve been across plenty of times,” Noctis raises his eyebrow.

“Guess I wasn’t aware you were the Prince of Danger,” Prompto says, shaking his head in disbelief. Still, a part of him trusts Noctis, so he follows him through the gap and comes out the other side.

They pass a few more short corridors, taking turns as Noctis leads them, until -

“Wait,” Noctis says suddenly, pulling Prompto back.

“What is it, Noct?” Prompto asks, and then he hears it himself.

The tomb is always quiet. He had forgotten that when Noctis and him finally started talking, making small jabs at each other as they passed each obstacle. Now both of them are quiet, ears strained to the room.

There’s the crackle of movement, and then Prompto’s stomach drops when he realises what it was.

Daemons.

He hadn’t expected to run into any of them, but this far underground and away from the sun, he knew it was possible. So, he  _ did _ bring something. Just in case, and he was glad he’d thought it.

“Do we have to pass through there?” Prompto asks.

“Yea,” Noctis answers. “It’s the only way across. I think I could sneak up on them and maybe-”

“I’ve got a better plan,” Prompto cuts in. He digs around in his bag, pulling out a small handgun. “I’ll fire a distraction, and we make a run for it.”

Noctis doesn’t question him, and he’s kind of glad he has that blind trust in Prompto. So Prompto can’t screw this up, or Noctis might never trust him again. Alternatively, they might just both be dead.

Prompto peeks into the room, spying about three to four imps in the center. Directly across is a hallway, that Noctis said was the only way to the tomb. A part of him, the common sense that nagged at him ever so often, is telling him that it isn’t worth it and that he should turn back.

But he  _ wants _ to go. Prompto’s not even sure he cares about the treasure anymore. Was he even that keen to see the old king’s resting place?

Noctis said he would take him there, though. And Prompto had agreed to follow, and they had come so far. It’s just a couple of small daemons, not even the frightening iron giant Prompto had the misfortune of seeing once.

So he glances back at Noctis once, grabs his hand, and runs into the room.

Prompto’s heart is in his throat, and his skin chilled with goosebumps. Passing this close to daemons, it’s hard not to be overcomed by the shivering fear. With his other hand, Prompto raises the gun to the ceiling and fires.

A blank shoots into the air, exploding in a burst of light that litters the room with sparks. The sudden flash blinds the daemons, and Prompto wastes no time in bolting into the other hallway with Noctis at his tail.

 

They’re still running even after they’ve long left the room and the daemons behind.

_ It’s got to be adrenaline _ , Prompto thinks, heart pumping in his chest, a metronome in allegro.

“It worked,” Noctis says, voice breathless from running.

The energy leaves them like vapour from a kettle, and Prompto slows to a walk.

“Yea,” Prompto responds. He’s still holding onto Noctis’ hand, though their death-grip has relaxed into something more comfortable.

When Prompto glances at Noctis, there’s a small, relieved smile.

“Just a bit further ahead,” he says.

The path opens up after that, a long walkway that stretches into darkness. Prompto feels nothing short of astonishment. How was something like this built underground? He gazes around in wonder, at tall, well-preserved pillars and railings that looked out into a sea of black. It’s enough to make him shudder, and Prompto was suddenly very glad to have Noctis with him.

“Y’know, I’m glad you’re here,” Prompto says, feeling a rare moment where he felt honest enough to speak his mind.

“You’d better be,” Noctis scoffs. “Or you’d still be lost.”

“Hey!” Prompto scowls. “I would’ve found my way...eventually.”

“Yea right.” Noctis rolls his eyes. “You were  _ totally _ lost.”

Prompto tries to level him with a glare, but it’s not worth much when it’s way too dark to see, so he gives up.

“Anyway, I meant that it’s nice to have some kind of companion here,” Prompto says, swinging their hands in a little show of what he meant.

“Mhm,” Noctis hums in agreement.

Their fingers are wrapped loosely around each other’s palm, something easy and non-committal. It’s a casual companionship that they have, maybe even friendship if Prompto wants to push it.

But there’ll be something lonely if Prompto lets go, and he wonders if Noctis feels the same way.

 

* * *

 

Like Noctis had promised, the walkway brings them to a pair of tall, intricate doors. Noctis pushes them slowly, the heavy doors swinging open to reveal a small room.

The tomb.

Prompto feels like an intruder, too mundane of a Lucian to be stepping into sacred ground. But Noctis beckons him in, and he follows suit.

There are carvings over the walls, stories in symbols and code that are well beyond Prompto. He stares at them anyway, following the images with his eyes like they were glimpses into a distant life.

The room is home to various statues too, larger-than-life figures carved out of stone. Prompto doesn’t know who  _ they _ are supposed to be - maybe important people or gods. Weapons are decorated around each corner of the room as well, though their once-shiny surfaces had glossed over with rust.

“The King rose to protect his people with his sword, and was beloved by many.”

Prompto turns around and finds Noctis standing over the tomb, eyes downcast and lips turned in a somber frown.

“Noct?” Prompto peers at him.

He doesn’t know what to read from the other boy’s face. The tomb looked at least a hundred years old, so Noctis probably didn’t know the old king personally. Still, maybe it was a royalty thing.

“Still wanna look around?” Noctis asks, looking up again.

“Um.” Prompto casts a quick glance around the room. It was beautiful, really. Clearly, care had been taken with every bit of the tomb, from the delicate carvings down to the intricate patterns on the tiles. But it’s still a grave, and lingering around has Prompto feeling all sorts of uneasy.

“Yea, I’m cool. Let’s go.”

They exit the room and Noctis pushes the doors back into place, closing off the tomb. When they’re back in the hallway, Noctis walks over to the wall and sinks to the ground, legs crossing as he sits down.

The ground looked all kinds of cold and uncomfortable, but Prompto is starting to feel the ache in his legs from the past hour of walking and doesn’t hesitate in sitting beside the prince.

“I wonder what kind of king  _ I _ would be,” Noctis remarks.

“You?” Prompto looks at him.

It’s hard to imagine, really. Noctis was just so young. He’s much more a boy Prompto’s age with his playful confidence and graceless jabs; rather than a man sworn to carry a duty centuries old. Besides, this far away from the present structure of Insomnia, they’re just two boys in an old, dark tunnel.

“A nice one, hopefully?” he tries.

 

“I came here to hide,” Noctis says after a while.

_ Hide? _

“I know I’ll have to be king someday, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be good enough,” Noctis continues, when Prompto remains silent. “I mean, everyone before me was so great, even my dad, and it’s just so much to live up to. So sometimes I just want to get away and...it sounds stupid, huh?”

_ Oh. _ Prompto hadn’t expect Noctis to be so real.

“It’s not stupid!” Prompto blurts out. “Wanting to get away is fine I mean, I get it too - though, maybe not on your level since I don’t have any of those royal...whatever to do. But like, it’s not dumb.”

Noctis scoffs again, a bitter smile coming over his lips.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to comfort me. I’ve been here a lot by myself.”

“Aren’t you ever lonely?” Prompto frowns.

“Lonely?” Noctis turns to stare at him, and then looks away just as quickly. “A-a little, I guess.”

Prompto realises that he’s been getting used to Noctis’ presence for a while. He still doesn’t know him too well, but it’s not too hard to talk to him, and Prompto even enjoys having him around.

Again, he’s wondering whether Noctis feels the same way. Does Noctis feel better that Prompto is around, or is it just the same old tomb and Prompto was just some blabbering blond?

“Why’d you come here, anyway?” Noctis asks. “A tomb’s not much to look at.”

“Uh, dunno. Fancy getting lost every once in awhile,” Prompto answers with a shrug.

Noctis kicks him lightly.

“No shit, Prompto.”

Prompto rubs at his shin where Noctis’ foot had connected, shooting him a scandalised look even though the kick didn’t hurt at all. He still doesn’t really want to tell Noctis the truth, mostly because it’s starting to sound pretty dumb, too.

But Noctis had just spilled  _ his _ side of things and it only seemed like fair trade for Prompto to do the same.

“Ugh fine,” he grunts. “I came here ‘cause I thought there was treasure I could sell to like, buy a new camera.”

Noctis looks at him, incredulous. For a few moments Prompto begins to think he  _ shouldn’t _ have said it - better to have made up some lie about coming here for photos even though he didn’t have half a camera in his rucksack. Then Noctis starts laughing.

“Are you serious?  _ Treasure?” _ Noctis wheezes, clutching at his stomach.

“Hey!” Prompto barks, crossing his arms defensively. “Some of us plebs need that extra cash, okay?”

Noctis shakes his head in disbelief.

“So, did you find anything?”

There’s the lame stuff Prompto had picked up earlier, but he wasn’t about to start showing that to Noctis.

“Guess I found you.” Prompto shrugs.

“Is that a pass at me?” Noctis snorts, lips quirking with an amused smile.

“A pass- what, no!” Prompto splutters, cheeks lighting up in a flush.

“Kidding, I was kidding,” Noctis laughs, leaning into Prompto and bumping their shoulders.

Prompto tries to pout - he really does, but he can’t help the quirk in his lips as Noctis casually sinks into his side. It feels so easy, being in each other’s spaces. Why had Prompto ever struggled?

“You were right,” Noctis speaks up after a while, after they’ve both sobered down to a comfortable silence. “It’s pretty nice to have someone here.”

Just like that, the airy feeling in his chest is gone. Prompto has a sudden, painful realisation that this is what he had desperately wanted. He had been filling his empty home with pictures and loud music, floating around classmates who couldn’t remember his hobbies or favourite games - just because he wanted to push the loneliness away. He was almost used to all of that too, damn.

Now his old, childish solitude is crushing him again.

It’s just a chance meeting, Prompto tells himself. They may have laughed and gotten along way better than Prompto could have dreamt, but he would be way out of his mind to think there are promises between them.

“Yea,” Prompto answers, breathes out slowly.

 

* * *

 

They make their way back slowly, the air packed with silence as Prompto’s thoughts weigh down on him. Noctis nudges him with an elbow.

“Hey, you alright there?”

Prompto blinks, quickly pulling himself back into reality.

“Y-yea! Sorry…”

Noctis frowns, but doesn’t press on.

Prompto is screwing this up. He should be lightening the mood, making some kind of stupid joke that might make Noctis laugh. That was how it worked, right? But it’s hard, when his chest tenses up each time he tries to speak.

Noctis walks ahead, silent and unwavering. The structures of the walkway are tall and foreign, and Prompto feels impossibly small following after him.

 

The daemons. Prompto had forgotten about the daemons. Noctis stops them just outside the room again, looking to Prompto.

“You still have more of that light you fired?”

Prompto digs into his bag, finding the handgun that had served him earlier. It’s still loaded with a few rounds of light flares.

“Yea,” he answers shakily.

Prompto’s still deathly afraid of daemons, but they’ve done this once and they can do it again. So Prompto steps into the room with confidence, gun at the ready.

Except that he wasn’t really ready, because he’s flung into the ground before he has a chance to fire.

“Prompto!”

He hears Noctis yell, and then his mind is flooding over with panic. The gun isn’t in his hand anymore - he must’ve dropped it. The daemon’s claws are pressing into his arms, the contact searing like fires of ice. But the worst part is the fact that Prompto is barely inches from the imp’s long, sharp beak and large glowing eyes. There’s more teeth than he can count, and he’s most certain that he’s going to die.

Until the daemon is knocked off his chest, and a flare explodes upon the room.

Prompto blinks once, and then he’s being tugged to his feet and trailing after his savior.

 

“Prompto, are you okay?”

Noctis sounds worried, and probably looks the part too, if Prompto can stop staring at the floor.

Noctis had fought off the imps, fired the flare and pulled them to safety with the distraction. While Prompto had screwed up the one thing he had to do, and gotten injured too. The scratches still sting, hot like throbbing inflammation and cold like nipping frostbite. Noctis is reaching for his pockets without a word, producing a small flask of liquid.

He pours it over Prompto’s arms without a word, and the pain ebbs immediately.

A curative - a potion, or something like that. The skin heals over and Prompto feels a small ounce of relief.

“I screwed up,” he mumbles. “Sorry…”

His heart is still panicked, the fear too stubborn to leave. His mind stirs with a deep, sinking disappointment. Prompto could have gotten them both killed.

“Don’t be,” Noctis says, in a voice so much more gentle than Prompto deserved. “I’m just glad you’re fine.”

He takes Prompto’s hand in his own and runs his thumb over his knuckles, slow and careful. It soothes his nerves, and the knot in his chest loosens a little.

“Thanks Noct,” Prompto says.

“Anytime,” Noctis responds. “You alright to keep going?”

Prompto looks up to see Noctis staring at him, slate-blue eyes watching expectantly.

“Yea, I think I’m good.” Prompto forces a smile.

Noctis gives Prompto a hand, tugging him to his feet. They continue on through the rest of the dungeon and Prompto’s head is thankfully quiet.

 

* * *

 

It’s not long before they come across the few obstacles again - the section of crumbled ruins and a couple of precarious ledges that they had to cross. Prompto groans out loud, and Noctis laughs.

“Come on, you’ve been across before,” Noctis says.

“Yea, but it’s still dangerous!” Prompto whines. “I mean, I screwed up running past the daemons so what if I screw this up too?”

“You  _ won’t, _ ” Noctis insists firmly. “Not with me around.”

“And what are you gonna do, catch me?” Prompto quips, skeptical.

“Yea?”

Oh. Okay, so Noctis really meant it.

“What, you wanna test it?” Noctis huffs. “Look, just go first and I’ll catch you if you really screw up.”

Prompto didn’t want to screw up. But he trusts Noctis, and it’s nice to have someone at his back that way.

“Okay, I guess,” Prompto responds, resigned. “Finally being all prince-like, huh?”

Crawling under the ruins isn’t so bad, apart from the slight claustrophobia. After that is the ledge, and Prompto takes a deep breath before bracing his feet against it.

Gods, does it not get easier.

Prompto has his hands braced against the wall, body tucked close as he inches across. He tries not to think of how high or bad the drop would be if he slipped. Instead, he brings up the promise Noctis had made.

He makes it across without incident, and heaves a sigh of relief. Noctis follows after him smoothly, landing beside Prompto.

“You okay?” Noctis asks, bumping their shoulders.

“Uh, yea?” Prompto chances a glance back at the scary ledge. “Didn’t fall to my death or anything.”

“I don’t mean that,” Noctis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You seemed pretty freaked out back there, you all good now?”

“Huh? Oh, yea.”

Noctis hums, seeming satisfied as he leads them through the rest of the way.

 

Prompto doesn’t know what kind of impression he had ever held of the prince. But today had given him more than he could ever imagine.

“Hey, Noct?” He calls out.

“What is it, Prompto?”

“I think you’ll be a kind king.”

Noctis stops, turning back to look at Prompto quizzically.

“What’s with that, all of a sudden?”

“You said-” Prompto pauses, gathering his words carefully. “You said sometimes you didn’t think if you could live up to everyone before you but I think - I think you could.”

Noctis looks skeptical, but stays silent, so Prompto makes himself go on.

“You look out for people and care about them. You’ll be a good king.”

Prompto feels a slow, heavy look before Noctis breaks off with a small laugh.

“You’re pretty simple-minded, huh?”

“W-what?” Prompto squawks, affronted. “Oh jeez, I shouldn’t have said anything!”

“But thanks, Prompto,” Noctis says, and he sounds sincere.

Prompto smiles, a small little grin that he can’t help. Maybe while they’re down here, statuses won’t matter as much and Prompto could feel like the prince’s best friend.

He thinks whatever this little chance meeting is must be more than enough.

 

* * *

 

Noctis brings them back to the small room with the bright blue runes. He looks to Prompto, before placing his hand over the rune.

This time, Prompto is better prepared when the floor lurches into motion again. Still, he inches closer to Noctis and the other boy takes hold of his arm.

There’s still some ways to go, but they’re closer to the entrance now. Prompto wonders if it’s still light out, and whether he needs to worry about daemons. Though it’s nothing more than a light, lingering thought in the back of his head.

He talks to Noctis the rest of the way back.

Noctis asks about the camera he was going to buy, and Prompto blabbers on and on about it. Then, growing flustered with his own chatter, he asks about Noctis’ hobbies, to which the prince starts telling him about fishing.

Prompto can’t help it. He laughs, because of course the Crown prince has a lame hobby like fishing. And he laughs because it’s so surreal that he’s in some musty tunnel talking to the prince about different types of fish. Surely, Prompto will be closing his eyes in his home and thinking back to this moment, wondering if everything really happened.

He’d like it, though.

There’s still lots of things Prompto wants to tell Noctis about. Silly, trivial things like his favourite game at the arcade, the photography magazine he sometimes picks up from the new stand and how the diner across the street makes the most perfect chicken skewers.

 

They’re reaching the last of the steps, and Prompto can nearly catch the last bit of daylight.

_ Oh. _

The daemons won’t be out for another hour, but Prompto needs to start heading back soon if he wants to stay well within the curfew. He looks to Noctis, and it’s clear that the other boy is aware of it too.

It should be enough for him, whatever he had gotten. But Prompto wants more hours, days and years even. He’s clinging onto this moment, learning the shape of Noctis’ face and trying to remember the crinkle in his eyes and the shape of his smile.

There’s a slow, heavy ache in his chest.

It’s got to be a crush - some kind of shallow infatuation. An attachment that had grown out of loneliness, desperation and relief.

 

“So uh, Prompto,” Noctis starts, eyes darting to the flood of daylight at the top of the steps.

“Guess this is it?”

They’ll be saying goodbye, and then this happy and short-lived couple of hours can be tucked away in his head. It’ll be a fond memory, maybe a quiet ache, but Prompto can live with it.

Has to live with it, anyway. All these years, and Prompto Argentum is still terrible at getting what he wants.

“Yea,” Prompto answers, dragging out a slow breath.

Noctis looks at him, and there’s nothing to read but the slightest furrow of his brow and a small tightening of his eyes. Prompto feels indistinct words caught in his throat, and it occurs to him that he might not be able to stop daylight from running, but he can do something.

Prompto makes a small, clumsy amble forward that puts him breath-to-breath with Noctis.

“Noct,” he says.”Let’s see each other again.”

Noctis blinks, and Prompto thinks he must be too close, but he  _ wants _ to be close and it doesn’t feel like it would work if the stakes aren’t high enough.

“Yea,” Noctis answers.

Prompto doesn’t know if it’s a promise to anything, but it’s  _ something _ , and Prompto uses the rest of his reckless courage to pull Noctis into a hug. He hears Noctis sigh, a ghost of breath over his shoulder as he sinks into the embrace, arms coming up around Prompto.

“Prompto,” Noctis mumbles. “I’ll find you again.”

Blood rises to his neck, and a blush blooms scarlet over his face.

“Hey, you trust me, don’t you?” Noctis says.

Prompto is just a common Lucian from a mundane household, and he doesn’t even have a phone. But they’re quickly losing daylight, and Prompto will gamble that they figure it out.

“Yea, already do.”

Noctis pulls away, shooting him a small smile. His face is flushed, skin warm under his light tan. When they make their quick goodbyes in the waning light, Prompto feels light. It’s still an empty house and a broken camera when he makes it home, but there’s a promise on the horizon and places to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on [tumblr](http://afterhoursfiction.tumblr.com)


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